Xenotime Memoir
by SiennaBrown
Summary: okay, I know the title doesn't fit, BUT I REALLY COULDN'T THINK OF ANYTHING! RusselxOC, untill I do or say otherwise. I hope it'll make sense later, it's the first multi-chapter story I've written. Please send me tips if you have any! Teen for language.


Chapter One

Russel looked glumly out the window, once again reminiscing about Xenotime. Before the Fullmetal Alchemist had shown up, he'd been so prepared to risk it all, People's lives, his brother's trust, and even his own life.

The blond's blue eyes glazed over as he watched the rain trickle down the windowpane. A lone figure in drab and dull garments trotted through the deep puddles, completely soaking the dark cloak. The gait of this wet traveler reminded Russel of a girl, from Xenotime.

She'd had purple hair, she must've dyed it, there's no way a person could be born with such vibrant hair. The blond looked at the cracked ceiling, trying to remember her eyes. The girl, Natalie, had always been at least a head and shoulders shorter than him. Russel smiled as he remembered poking fun at her. She had never gotten angry at him, regardless of how mean he had been. Natalie had always said it would come back to kick his ass later. The purple haired girl didn't know how right she was.

They were green. Natalie's eyes were even greener than that of spring, and sharper than any rose thorn. She had always known Russel and Fletcher were up to something, but was polite in not pestering the boys about their sneaky habits. She was so nice, and pretty and always interested in the boys' conversations, even when she had no clue what they were talking about. He slowly remembered her last words before he left her, "Russel, I'm sorry you can't trust me. That's your own fault, but I am always here for you. Now get your ass in gear, boy, and get to work."

Unbeknownst to Russel, Natalie was, at that very moment, walking up the street his house was on. She sloshed around, attempting to see through the never ending waterfall of rain, but her sight wasn't what it used to be, and the rain only hindered her movements. Glaring at the sky, she muttered something along the lines of breaking the motherfricking sky so it would rain somewhere ELSE for a day.

"If all goes well, Russel will take pity on me and at least give me some food," She continued her verbal thoughts, "And hopefully he'll let me dry off. Key word being _hopefully_, of course." Natalie pushed her purple bangs out of her eyes, and glared at the number on the door to the house in front of her. She blinked a few times, and pulled a grubby scrap of paper out of her cloak pocket.

Double checking, then quadruple checking, she realized that she was at the correct house. She quietly walked to the door, lifted her fist, and didn't knock. The tan fist lowered, and the wet girl turned to sit on the pavement.

"Is he going to think I'm a stalker?" The thought was not pleasant, nor was it entirely plausible. She rested her face on her legging covered knees, trying to think of something to say, or even do. She could walk away, she could beat her face on the door instead of her fist and pretend she got mauled, or she could continue sitting and doing nothing except become more soaked.

Natalie's stomach growled, alerting her once again to its emptiness. The purple haired girl sighed, but didn't get up. There was no way she could randomly bother the Tringhams. Hell, they probably didn't even remember her! She knew then for what, one year? Not even!

"It's now or never, I might as well knock." She stood up, turned around, and slipped on the pavement. She slammed her head on the doorframe as she went down.

Russel jumped at the loud banging noise from downstairs. He got out of his chair, "Fletch? What's up?" He waited a few seconds before he got his response.

"Brother, that wasn't me. It came from the door. I'm covered in flour, would you check it out?" The blond shook his head, and meandered down the stairs to open the front door. He looked straight ahead, expecting whoever to at least be the same height as he was, but no one was there. Russel looked down when he heard a girl's voice grumbling on the ground. It was the person with the shabby cloak; face down on his doorstep and cursing like a sailor. He stared at the muddy heap, "Who the hell are you?" Fletcher scolded him on his language from the kitchen as the hooded figure looked up.

"Natalie!? What the," His confused stammering was cut off by Fletcher sprinting out of the kitchen and throwing his arms around the purple haired girl. Russel continued staring blankly at his one-time crush, the emotions tumbling into his skull again. He had entirely forgotten how her hair always stuck to her forehead when she got wet, how she always had that surprised look when she saw them, even when she had come over to see them in the first place, how she was shy whenever they tried to touch her, how bubbly her laugh was- No, he had to keep his head about him. Natalie was not on his list of things to do, or obtain, she was simply a friend. A very petite, adorable, sexy- NO! Russel gave the door an exasperated glance, really wishing that he could control his thoughts.

"Natalie! I'm so happy to see, you! Are you okay? What happened? Why are you here? You're soaked, come inside, I'm making hot chocolate, do you want some? I'm so happy to see you!" Russel smiled at Fletcher's excited spazz. Natalie was practically dragged into the house, her cute face covered in confusion. Russel shook his bangs out of his face, and followed the two into the house.

Natalie quietly stared down into her hot chocolate, and nibbled on a cookie. Fresh out of the oven, yum, but now she had some explaining to do. After Fletch had his 'OMG how are you, come sit eat' thing, the Tringhams had sat down with her and stared like she was from some other planet. She glanced up to see if they were still sheep, and yeah, they king of were. The green-eyed girl avoided Russel's gaze, and turned to Fletcher, "So, how's it going?" Fletcher then proceeded to fill the room with useless chatter, and filled her in on the details of how the hot boys had been since they left Xenotime two years ago.

"So how have you been, Natalie?" The purple haired girl smirked, he was saying her name every three words, as though he might forget it if he didn't say it so often. She sipped at her cocoa, "I've been worse, but it's not going to well." They leaned in closer, obviously expecting a life story.

"Guys, I don't want to burden you with my problems, I came to visit and say hello." Her stomach gave an unnecessarily loud grumble, seemingly to prove her wrong. She glared at it as Fletch offered to get her more substantial food, which she agreed to. Russel was staring at her through the corner of his eye, and it was quite unnerving.

"Do you have a question, Russel?" He blinked in acknowledgement, and looked down at his own dark bean juice. He inhaled slightly, "Did something bad happen?" Natalie nearly inhaled her cocoa, since when was Russel so observant? Coughing the sugary liquid out of her windpipe, she shook her head 'no' to his question. Biggest. Lie. Ever. Nothing could be worse right now than if they had just left her on the street. She decided to quickly and badly switch to an entirely unrelated topic of something other than herself.

"So, how much has Fletcher grown, anyway? Last time I saw him he was barely cracking four feet." Russel stared through her as she quickly and not adeptly switched the subject. 'Smooth,' she thought to herself.

"He's five-foot-three, and still growing the booger. How about you, shrimp? You get any taller?" The green-eyed girl smiled at his attempt to be light-hearted. Something was bothering the blond, but who was she to pry?

"When I wear taller heels I can reach five-six. I bet that's as tall as you are." The taller boy stared in disbelief, "No freakin' way. You hardly get to five-two when you wear you're boots. What shoes could possibly make you four inches taller?" Natalie smiled; it was so great to talk to him again. Back in Xenotime, Fletcher had been a shrimp. So much so that it had been very difficult to believe that they were merely a year apart in age.

"Natalie? What happened to your eyes?" The girl flinched, "what?" Her forced question didn't fool Russel, and he wasn't about to let it go.

Her once vibrantly green eyes had gone cloudy, and it had been bothering him since she had first arrived. He was going to press this one, regardless of whether it was linked to her having a horrible time earlier or not.

"Your eyes, Natalie. What happened to them?" The girl moved so that they were hidden behind her purple bangs. The blond boy put a hand on her shoulder, "I'll ask later, okay? But I WILL be asking. Got it?" Natalie nodded, and Fletcher returned with buttered toast and soup.


End file.
